Wild Ways

by Tina Wainscott

  I just want to love you.

  His declaration resonated within her. She ached for that, to love and be loved. The realization compelled her to pull him close, wrap her arms around him, and press her mouth against his shoulder.

  “Love … love me,” she whispered.

  He pulled back, bracing her face and leaning close. His kiss was deeper, more ardent. She’d released him, and he made the shift from tender to sensual. It felt different, though. More … meaningful. Beyond sex.

  Julian leaned over to take a condom from his wallet, then sat and rolled it over his erection. He guided her over to straddle him. She held his shoulders as she eased down onto him, inch by inch, and rocked her head back as he filled her. Filled completely, in ways beyond the physical. It stole her breath away.

  “Is it too much?” he asked. “This position allows deep penetration.”

  She shook her head, making her hair swing out with her movement. “It’s perfect.”

  They started moving and it was even more perfect. They drove deeper, harder. She liked this position, where they faced one another. Loved watching his face as it flushed with pleasure and exertion. After several minutes, he lifted her, his hand braced on her behind, and lowered her to the bed. Without breaking their intimate contact, he positioned himself over her and now he took control. She wrapped her legs around his waist and found his rhythm again. Her fingers dug into his back as the pressure built inside her.

  She grinned as he whispered those beautiful words in Spanish, especially with her name laced within. As their pace quickened, the pleasure built, and built, and then roared out of her. Literally, because the scream that poured out was hers.

  He joined her, both in the sound and in the orgasm, his cock throbbing inside her. She couldn’t get enough of this either, but she didn’t want to think beyond this moment. His eyes were bright and glassy. He leaned down and gave her a rough, quick kiss, then rolled so that she was sprawled on top of him.

  “Now you can rest, Mollie,” he said on a breathless whisper.

  Her body a bag of bones, she could only nod. Yes, now she would rest.

  * * *

  Julian was sure that the guys would see what had happened during their “rest” break the moment they laid eyes on him as they reconvened in the jet. Not the sex part, because they had that figured out. The falling in love part. But everybody was all business, and needed to be, too. Which was damned hard whenever he looked at Mollie and thought about what she might have to do.

  Having most of his team around him helped to ease the tension coiling through his body. If they went to Plan B, Mollie was in the best hands she could be in. Julian would much rather have her in his hands, and have everything be over. Which was odd, because he lived for the mission, for the danger. But those missions didn’t usually involve putting a woman he cared about into the domain of outlaw bikers. When SEALs were called in, there was already somebody in danger. It wasn’t their place to put her there.

  They ascended the steps to the jet’s door and then filed down the narrow aisle to where they’d had their meeting earlier. Saxby stood and greeted each of the team with their particular handshake and a backslapping hug. His gaze landed on Mollie, and it’d only taken him point-two seconds for him to notice her. Typical Sax.

  He took Mollie’s hand in a gentle hold and bowed. “Nice to meet you in person.”

  Julian was going to deck him if he kissed the back of her hand.

  She smiled. “You, too. Hey, is that a bullet in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

  Sax pointed at her and winked, making a clicking sound with his mouth. “You’re funny. I like you.” His light green eyes shifted in Julian’s direction, as though he sensed the beginning of his seething annoyance. He released Mollie’s hand and added, “In a purely platonic way, of course.”

  It’d been a long time since Julian felt possessive. Not since his teenage days when he’d been dating Susana. Apparently he hadn’t grown out of it, even with guys for whom he would put his life on the line.

  Chase pressed a button and the floor between the two sofas slid open. A table rose up. “This serves as a conference table. One of our J-men likes to dabble in mechanics.”

  Rath and Risk knelt down to check out the mechanism, gearheads that they were. They asked a couple of questions before sitting down. Risk, Julian, and Mollie took the couch on the right while the others sat opposite.

  Chase laid out a map with Hidden Assets highlighted in yellow. “I’m going to be in a van parked here, along the street just up from the lounge. Mollie will be with me. Sax and Risk will be inside the lounge, advising us from there. Julian, you and Rath will be in a rented car, watching the rear entrance. A number of women being escorted out won’t be hard to miss. We follow the vehicles. Once we have a location, I call the police chief.”

  Julian prayed to God that it played out that way. “And Plan B?” he forced himself to say.

  Chase pressed another button and a flat-screen television slid down. It turned out to be a computer monitor or at least doubled as one. Chase set a laptop on the edge of the table and within a few seconds a satellite map of the bar’s location filled the screen.

  “Mollie goes in pretending to want a job. Her G-patch will be transmitting to this mapping software.” He panned out to show a yellow flashing blip. “That’s this patch. I’ve got one on Vivi, too.” He panned out even more, and there in Miami was a blue blip. Chase met Julian’s gaze. “To assure you that they work.”

  Julian nodded his thanks. “They stay on even if the person gets wet?”

  “The adhesive is waterproof, tested on a speedboat. Wind tested at speeds of Mach zero-point-eight, courtesy of being attached to the outer surface of ol’ Bessie here.” He patted the wall of the jet.

  “You call your jet Bessie?” Julian asked. “I thought Rath calling his Harley Betsy was odd enough, but to call this”—he gestured to the multimillion-dollar beauty—“Bessie … sorry, no disrespect intended, but just sayin’.”

  Chase chuckled, clearly not feeling disrespected. “I usually call it my mofo tin can. I was being facetious. And I encourage my teammates to speak their mind. Likewise, I’ll do the same.” The look he was giving Julian said, Be warned. “So suffice it to say that if Mollie showers, she’ll still have a functioning transmitter. If they strap her to a plane, she’ll be traceable.” Chase’s attention shifted back to the screen, which he focused in on the bar area again.

  “I want that software on my phone, too,” Julian said.

  “You will all have it. So wherever they take Mollie, we’ll be right there.” Chase’s gaze zeroed in on her. “How are you doing? Still ready to go in if it comes to that?”

  She nodded, but she was worrying her lower lip with her teeth.

  “Because you have to be one hundred percent,” he prodded.

  “I am. Just the thought of seeing my sister … a hundred and twenty percent.”

  Chase gave her an affirming nod. “I’ve had my techs working on audio surveillance in conjunction with the G-patch, but we haven’t been able to come up with something small enough yet. Current technology is too big. You may be searched, as you mentioned, or taking off your clothes. I’ve never had a situation where any kind of device might be so … exposed, pardon the pun.”

  Sax’s head swiveled like the girl’s in The Exorcist. Risk, interestingly, didn’t even blink. Those two were the notorious ladies’ men on the team.

  Chase removed a chip from the cabinet and crooked his hand. “Mollie, give me your cell phone.” He snapped off the back, inserted the chip, then closed it again. “That will give us audio, plus it acts as a backup GPS transmitter.”

  Julian tried not to look so relieved, but he obviously failed because Chase said, “Feel better?”

  “Yes. But it’s doubtful these guys are going to let her keep a phone. Especially if—and likely when—they snatch her.”

  “We’ll still hear what’s going on,” Chase sai
d. “We can’t do much more. The last thing we need is to give them any reason to be suspicious.”

  Julian did his best to sound objective. “What about some other kind of distance listening device? Something we can use from outside the building?”

  “I’ve thought about that, but one of our remote devices requires a window to catch the vibrations. The other requires a receiver that will be obvious as hell. And considering that there will be music and a hundred conversations going on inside, I don’t see how effective it would be.”

  Chase addressed them all. “The issue we need to hammer down is how long we wait until moving in once we pin down the Ball’s location. If we move in too early, nothing will be going on.”

  “And if we wait too long, something will be going on,” Julian said. “Like rape.”

  “The moment we ascertain that things are in motion, we call in the cops. Unfortunately, to make this stick in the courts, they have to find evidence of foul play.”

  “Sir,” Sax said. “We’ve learned to work around limitations.”

  Chase gave him a crooked smile. “That’s why I hired you.” His gaze scanned the group. “I’m also counting on your cool execution and ability to look beyond any personal connection to the case.” That he aimed at Julian, who nodded.

  “Point taken.”

  “Good.” Chase stood and took a box out of the cabinet nearby. He set it on the table and opened it, revealing a small, flesh-colored patch. “This is the G-patch. Come here, Mollie.”

  Julian slid off the couch so she could follow. He wanted to pull her against him, tell her she didn’t have to do this. But she did.

  Mollie turned around and held up her hair. Chase cleaned the skin at the base of her skull, then applied the adhesive to what looked like a square bandage and pressed it to her skin. He held his fingers there for a minute, though it felt like an hour to Julian. She looked into his eyes, since she was facing him, trying to shore up her bravado. But he could see her fear, too.

  Damn, he wished he could do this for her.

  “You might be removing all your clothing, but I doubt they would make you pin up your hair. Just be aware that if you dance, avoid hanging your head upside down or flipping your hair too much.” Chase finally released the pressure, drawing his hand down and leaving it on her shoulder. “You can do this, Mollie.”

  She turned to face him. “I know.”

  Chase planted his hands on the map spread out on the table. “Now we need to figure out exact placement, tactical strategy, and equipment. I’m leaving the military maneuvers to you while I monitor the surveillance equipment. I don’t have your particular skills, but I’m on hand if needed. I know my way around weapons.”

  Knew his way? The guy had a bloody arsenal, along with a private shooting range. “So, chief, you ever going to tell us what your background is?” Julian asked.

  Chase didn’t even flinch at the question. “I went through hell to leave my past behind. I’m not trudging through it again to sate your curiosity.”

  All righty then. Julian nodded. “Point taken.”

  Chase moved right past his nosiness, his expression neutral. “You and Rath will be monitoring the exterior of the building.” He opened a drawer in a credenza, then set two communications systems on the table. “You’re familiar with bone conduction headphones, right?”

  Julian nodded. “We call them bones. These are magnetostrictive transducers, right?”

  “Correct,” Chase said.

  Julian touched the microphone as he turned to Mollie. “This picks up the slightest whisper. It works by …” He waved his hand. “You don’t need to know this part. Why don’t you sit, relax?”

  Mollie touched the G-patch at the back of her neck. “I’m going to sit with Brick and see if I can extract any more information from him.”

  Julian wanted to reach for her hand but stopped himself. Stay cool and calm. It was good that Brick had proclaimed his love for Diana. Julian only hoped Brick didn’t say anything stupid that would undermine Mollie’s tenuous belief in love.

  * * *

  Mollie wandered back to the area that included a bed on the right and dresser on the left. Brick lay on his back, the inflamed flesh on his chest covered in a layer of salve. He was staring at the ceiling but turned when she sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Don’t try to sit up,” she said as he started to move his arms to brace himself. After he settled, she went on. “Thank you for your help. And for what you said about Di. Did you treat her well?”

  “I treated her …” He seemed to have to take deep breaths to push out the words. “As good as I knew how to treat a woman. Dad … beat my mom. I had a helluva role model.”

  “Did you hit Di?” Mollie had to work hard not to grind out those words.

  “No.” Brick gulped, shook his head against the pillow. “Never. I just didn’t show her that I loved her.”

  “She called, begging me to come get her. Was that after you left?”

  “Yeah … no reason for her to do that before. She was happy with me.”

  It was hard to imagine Di truly happy. Well, happy and sober. In truth, she chose men who would perpetuate drama in her life. That was why, Mollie realized, she chose men who needed fixing, because she would never let herself fall for them. Lost souls, boy-children, men fighting depression, no one who would elicit any true emotion. In being the fixer, she controlled everything.

  But she controlled nothing where Julian was concerned, especially her feelings. As he had pointed out, he didn’t need fixing. Didn’t need anything. And without that wall, she’d fallen hard for him. The last thing he needed was her problems tangling up his life.

  “You all right?”

  Brick’s voice tugged her from her thoughts. “When we find Di, she’s going to be pretty messed up. She will not be the happy, flirty girl you fell for. She will be hurt, maybe physically, certainly spiritually. Not only from what she’s gone through, but also because you left and didn’t fight for her. Didn’t come back for her. Just like our father. Our mother.”

  Brick’s mouth pulled into a frown. “I know.” Tears saturated his voice. “I let her down. I promise I won’t ever again.”

  That’s what Mollie was afraid of. She placed her hand on Brick’s arm. It was still hot. “Do you really love Di?”

  “Yes. I’ll do anything to make it up to her.”

  “Then leave her alone. That’s how you can never let her down again. Don’t prop her up and allow her to think you’ll be there. Don’t promise anything. Because people forget their promises. Or simply can’t keep them.” She squeezed his arm, the way her own heart felt squeezed. “Let her go, Brick. That’s how you show that you love her. Back away now so you don’t hurt her later.”

  More of Julian’s words echoed, these much more personal: My poor Mollie, so brave and yet so afraid to open her heart and trust.

  But didn’t it take more courage to back away from something you wanted badly to protect your heart?

  Chapter 15

  Scotch stepped into Hidden Assets and spotted Damon toward the back, helping to stock the bar. He knew Damon on a casual basis but wasn’t a big fan of the guy. It was still early in the day, though much later than he’d wanted to arrive. Damn bike had broken down, and he’d had to call his guys to come with the parts truck.

  “You’re Scotch, right?” Damon asked as he watched him approach.

  “Yep. Meant to get here earlier, to help keep an eye on things.”

  “Yeah, heard you’d brought some trouble to the club.”

  Scotch swallowed his anger. “Wasn’t me, it was Brick. Now I’m trying to clean it up before it explodes in our faces. I take it there’s been no trouble?”

  Damon stacked a full bottle of whiskey behind a half-empty one. “Nothing. Crimson moved the Ball to tonight, though, just in case.”

  “I didn’t know that. Then again, I’m not attending.”

  “Well, he’ll want you to help guard, I’m sure. Sta
y handy.”

  Great. He wanted nothing to do with this orgy-fest, and now he was stuck playing guard duty like a newbie patch. “Whatever.” He leaned against the bar and turned toward the small stage where a blonde was doing acrobatics on the pole. “Are all the girls who are going here?”

  “Nope, they’re at the clubhouse, getting prepared.” Damon grinned as he pulled a draft. “Hosed down, shaved, and dressed up.” He set the beer in front of Scotch.

  “Thanks.” He took a long drink, his dry mouth grateful. “So that chick on the stage isn’t on the list then?”

  “Nope. She’s not a mama. I hired her straight out. But we’re bare-bones tonight. I’ve got amateur hour tomorrow so I can recruit some new blood. I’m hoping the chick who busted in last night comes back. She was pretty good.”

  Scotch’s red flag waved. “What chick was this?”

  “Brunette, came in with her boyfriend. Never seen them before. She said her guy dared her to sneak in the back and hit the stage. Which, of course, annoyed the piss out of me, but I had to admit, she rocked it.”

  “Dark hair? How long?”

  Damon gestured to about the Reagan woman’s length. But she had light red hair. Of course, hair could be dyed. “What did the guy look like?”

  “Latino, about my height, leaner build. You think this is the pair that’s been causing all the trouble?”

  Alarm bells were going off. “Sneaking into the back room is something that crazy bitch would do in her search for her sister. Her sister who might be here. Let me talk to their server. Maybe we’ll get lucky and they paid with a card.”

  A couple of minutes later, a hot blonde came over, and they were introduced. Candy didn’t have much trouble recalling the guy. “They paid with cash.”

  “Did they say or do anything unusual?”

  “Besides her going up onstage?” Candy laughed. “I wouldn’t have guessed in a million years she’d have done that. She seemed so demure. Not straitlaced exactly, not with a guy like that. But still, not the kind to take her top off on the stage.” Candy ran a long, pink nail down the ridge of her jaw as she seemed to search her memories. “He was a real good tipper. Called me beautiful, but not in a ‘So let’s do something about it’ way, know what I mean?”